


Gay Pride

by sunshine (sunshinepiveh)



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 02:31:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2491175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinepiveh/pseuds/sunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk and Spock attend a gay pride parade in San Francisco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gay Pride

“Come on, Spock! It's gay pride!”

“I am aware of this, Jim.” Spock retorted blandly. “I have therefore done our weekly shopping ahead of time so as to not need to leave the apartment for the duration of our day.”

Jim made an exasperated sound. “Not leave? We have to leave! Come on -- if you don't hurry up, we're not going to find a good spot to watch it from.”

For the first time, Jim came into view of Spock's line of sight. Spock's eyebrows nearly disappeared under his hair with shock. He did not even know Jim _owned_ such.... “clothing”. He was in scandalously tight and revealing metallic gold short-shorts, and a brilliant purple “shirt” that barely covered his pectorals, leaving his entire torso exposed. Starfleet issue boots completed his “ensemble”, along with a good dose of glitter staining various parts of his anatomy. Spock was unaware their apartment had contained glitter. It was not a pleasant realisation. “What ... are you wearing?” Spock asked flatly.

Jim laughed in amused delight in response. “Command gold, Spock! Now come on. Are you wearing that?”

Spock simply raised an eyebrow. He was dressed in loose black pants and a black tunic, a casual ensemble for his people.

“Fine, whatever. Let's go.” Jim grabbed Spock's wrist enthusiastically and pulled him toward the door. Spock suppressed a sigh and with one last desolate look at his serene oasis, followed Jim into the fray.

 

Spock glanced around coolly as Jim bounced ahead gleefully, leading the charge to find a “good spot” from which to observe the parade. Spock eyed the other onlookers speculatively, surprised that this number of bizarre beings actually lived in San Francisco. Perhaps they did not, he speculated. Perhaps they had only travelled for the event. Then again, his own Captain had seemed to lose his mind for the event, so why in fact not the entire city?

Jim got his fifth cat-call up ahead and Spock did his best to Vulcan-death-glare the caller, but he was oblivious and Jim was ecstatic, preening for attention. He had already procured a plastic whistle of some sort and was blowing it to some staccato rhythm as he bounced, and one of his hands was stuffed with fliers. Spock declined all such offerings, and followed Jim resignedly into the thickening crowd, tightening his shields against unwelcome psychic intrusion, and doing his best to disregard the growing cacophony, harsh to his sensitive ears.

“Do you not find it illogical,” Spock questioned Jim, “in this day and age to have a day dedicated to pride in one's sexuality? I am aware of Earth's past, but all such discriminatory ideals are archaic. I do not see the point in feeling pride in one's sexual propensity, nor in highlighting such a personal aspect to the world.”

“It's a parade, Spock.” Jim grinned. “It's about having a good time. And besides, you have to remember the history, lest it come back or whatever. Plus, these are our people.”

Spock was a bit doubtful about including the array of flamboyantly dressed strangers in a nebulous concept of “his people”. As far as he knew, he had no history with these beings in particular. He was about to argue such, but Jim's attention was already focused on the coming parade as a flurry of air-bikes revved past them and the crowd went wild.  _Kaiidth_ .

 

Spock hung back, carefully standing on the edge of the sidewalk, while Jim pressed eagerly into the street. The loud bass from some of the floats reverberated through his skin, and he watched with controlled arousal as Jim gyrated to the beat, and also watched with controlled shock as the scantily clad men on the float did the same. Spock was a firm believer in IDIC but the Vulcan in him was a bit scandalized at the display, and he more than wanted to wrap his arms around Jim's alluring body and shield him from the hungry gaze of the crowd. Of course, such a physical display would  _also_ be highly inappropriate. He would not implicate himself in this. He would allow Jim to enjoy himself. For now. Within limits.

Jim, up in the front of the press of people was procuring fistfuls of fliers in no time, and at one point was forced to retreat back to Spock in order to hand them off to him and run back to procure more. Spock briefly considered refusing to help but softened when he saw the unrestrained joy in Jim's face. He held the pamphlets. He was even a little relieved when the incessant staccato whistling had ceased, until he realized that Jim had somehow procured a small vial of bubbles and had elected to spend at least a moment blowing them directly at his face. Spock merely responded with a slow blink, which made Jim chuckle delightedly and bound back into the fray.

 

It was also not long until his Jim was laden with multiple strands of plastic beads. Although they offered no conceivable benefit, Jim had seemed to make it a point to collect every strand being offered to the crowd. Some he had to chase down, while others were simply placed around his neck as though it were assumed he'd want them. One strand had even been handed over quite... _flirtatiously_ , and Spock would have been annoyed enough to do something, except that just then he was accosted himself by some gyrating individual who placed a hot pink strand of beads around his  _own_ neck before departing. Flustered, he kept his sudden emotionalism to himself.

 

Spock did look with some interest at the various banners proclaiming the titles and sometimes vague purposes of the various groups that had chosen to march. He'd been unaware that there were so many groups so nearby that were focused on such a specific sexual expression. It was a bit baffling to him that the humans should need “support”, but reasoned that they were a communal species and liked to share  _everything_ . He felt no personal need for support in his choice of partner. Indeed, he was not even certain whether he would consider himself homosexual, or even bisexual. He was currently Jim-sexual, and for him that was enough. 

His eyes widened slightly, however, when he saw the galactic interspecies pride brigade march by, and amid the gaggle of Orions (no surprise there) and smattering of other races, there was indeed one Vulcan marching among them, bedecked with a purple-sequinsed traditionally cut robe. Where he had procured such an outlandish item was a mystery to Spock, for sure, but he had to admit that his own place at this event took on a slightly different feeling after seeing one of his own. He could not define what had changed, but he thought perhaps he could empathize slightly better with his bondmate's assertion that “these are our people”.

 

“Jim.” Spock could stand silently no longer. He'd had to move forward in the fray to access his bondmate.

“Spock!” Jim turned to him with a grin, gyrating his direction. While Spock was grateful that Jim's attentions had focused on his person now and not others, he still questioned the logic in displaying such overt sexuality in public regardless. He pressed on.

“Why is that being dressed as an equine?”

Jim turned in confusion and the burst out laughing. “He's a pony, Spock!” He snickered again. “An equine.... You.” he smiled as if Spock had said something particularly endearing.

“I highly doubt that.” Spock retorted. It was obvious the being was in some garish leather and latex regalia, with fake hair and a bit in its mouth.

“Well don't tell  _him_ that.” Kirk retorted and turned his attentions back toward the parade of “ponies”, cheering extra loudly as one of them trotted his way. 

Spock retreated to the sidewalk.

It was soon after the “ponies” that he also saw multiple beings walking with others on leads, as if animals, and his eyes widened perceptibly as he looked to the crowd as if to say  _Am I the only one witnessing this?_ Spock was well familiar with the slavery of his own planets brutal past, and he was astounded to see what could  _only_ be some facsimile of it here. Human trafficking was beyond illegal, especially on Earth. These individuals must be in some consensual arrangement, he reasoned, or be participating in some form of game or ceremony he did not understand. He would have asked Jim about it, but the overwhelming bass beat would have drowned out any conversation anyway, so he filed his questions away for later.

 

He winced as the confetti gun popped its fare toward his section of the crowd, and debated whether it would be more dignified to simply leave the colourful paper coating him or to try to brush it away. He contented himself with slowly picking it off of his person without displaying any of the desperation he truly felt to be clean and away from the scene. And with that one final burst of gaiety, the parade had finally come to a halt. All that was left was to follow the crowd in a mass pilgrimage to where the various vendors and live stage of some sort would be housed. Spock could see that Jim was already leading the charge for his section of crowd, so Spock resigned himself to see this through.

 

The first thing Jim insisted upon was standing in a long line for use of the public restrooms. Spock winced as he awaited his mate off to the side, relieved that his physiology allowed him to wait for longer durations between such biological necessities than his mate. He was not certain he would have survived the experience. He was relieved to see that at least Jim was rubbing his hands thoroughly with the provided hand sanitizer as he left the cubicle.

Jim excited scanned the crowd. “Isn't this great? This is your first Pride isn't it?”

“It is... an experience.” Spock said blandly.

“I'm gonna go get something to eat.” he was already bounding away, seeming to feed on the collective energy of the crowd. “You want something?”

Spock had already scanned the headings of the “food” being proffered by the vendors. Animal products and fried “foods” with no nutritional content, all for double their standard price of credits to boot. “Negative. I shall await your return.” Spock said, unwilling to give up his post beside a brick wall and out of the main throng.

“Okay!” Jim called over his shoulder and was swallowed by the crowed.

 

Jim returned moments later with a hotdog and a bottle of water, smiling adoringly at his stoic lover. Spock simply held his post and the bag full of pamphlets (somehow Jim had procured a bag). “Man I love this thing.” Jim said, gesturing around them, with a mouth full of food, licking his fingers obscenely. “We didn't have anything like this back in Iowa.”

“Iowa seems to be a most practical state.” Spock retorted dryly.

Jim chuckled. “I guess a lot of places did away with these things as sexual rights became more the norm, but San Francisco has been doing this since forever. You should appreciate this.” Jim added with a smile. “It's traditional. You love tradition.”

Spock was forced to concede that point, internally, but would not admit so aloud.

“I guess they don't have a lot of parades on Vulcan.”

“Negative.”

“If they did have a parade, for Surak or something, I'd go with you.” Jim said, suddenly earnest. “You know that, right? I appreciate you coming out here.”

Spock did not sigh, but some of the tension in his shoulders did loosen and his eyes warmed to his mate. “I am aware, Jim. It is of no consequence. Also, I very much doubt that Surak would have been amenable to the rampant emotionalism of a parade.”

“Well you know, a stoic parade maybe. Where everyone walks in neat little lines.” Jim teased, his eyes sparkling. He finished his food and drank half of the water, handing the rest off to Spock, which he accepted gratefully. Before he'd even finished his drink, Jim was bounding ahead again, leading the charge toward the vendor booths.

 

Jim seemed to make it a point to look at every piece of gaudy merchandise available, not intending to purchase any of it. He also felt the need to pick up every single pamphlet he came across, adding it to Spock's (Jim's) bag, and Spock wondered what Jim could possible want with the literature. Oh well. Perhaps he would read the pamphlets himself in an anthropological capacity. As time wore on, however, Spock grew increasingly irritated with the entire event. The rampant emotionalism. The cacophony of noise and colour. The scandalous exhibitionism, the stares others gave his bondmate, whom he could not shield from view... it was all becoming tedious. And there seemed to be no reigning Jim in. On the contrary, Jim seemed to  _thrive_ under the attention, only winding himself up into a higher and higher state of jubilation.

 

And then they came to the table covered in black. With the beings dressed in black. With collars and leads. Jim eyed it with scepticism and jauntily moved along to the next booth, something containing sequins. Spock, however, decided to stop. He opened the nearest pamphlet and read with interest. Slowly, deliberately, he added each piece of available literature from this stand to his bag.

“Can I answer any questions for you, Sir?” asked a demure but friendly female from the other side of the table. She smiled pleasantly to him, but was rather subdued in comparison to the excited screaming coming from the stage area.

“Negative.” Spock answered. He had scanned the literature, and he was certain he had a pretty good understanding of what all this encompassed. It was a balm to his frazzled nerves and hectic day. He scanned the various wares for sale, landing particularly on the collars. In his minds eye he saw Jim's throat, and selected one of the items that he had calculated would fit, along with an accompanying lead, handing his credit chip over without batting an eye. Purchase made, he went in search of his mate.

 

“There you are!” shouted Jim gleefully, his eyes landing on Spock. He'd already gotten three booths ahead in his excitement and his fists were full of free literature and stickers.

Spock opened the bag expectantly as Jim hurried to dump his new finds. In a flash he turned his attention to the next booth in the row when Spock said sharply -- “ _My mate, attend.”_

Startled and confused, Jim turned around to face Spock once more. Was Spock pissed about something? What --

And then he saw the collar in Spock's hands and froze as Spock fastened the black leather around his neck, neatly clipping the lead in place. Far from upset, Jim's eyes had darkened in lust, his heart rate already increasing with the excitement of this public display. Spock firmly placed the bag of swag in Jim's hands, giving him a pointed look.

“It seems I have found 'my people'.” Spock said by way of explanation. “And I find my patience for this event has increased exponentially.” He nodded ahead toward the remaining booths Jim had meant to see. Lead in hand, he commanded, “Proceed.”

With a grin, Jim lead the way ahead, staying necessarily close to his bondmate, and happily contented himself in seeing the rest of the event. On Spock's part, he was satisfied to notice a significant decline in lecherous, greedy looks being directed toward his mate when the onlookers realized who held the leash, and an accompanying wider berth given to himself. Perhaps it would be an enjoyable Pride after all.


End file.
